HOLDING THE BAG

I write this blog daily.  Usually I have a thought, a story, a ranting of some sort that comes out of my mind, heart, spirit or event of the day.  Something triggers what I write.  When I finish a blog post I spell check it, read it several times and edit it.  Depending on the day, I might have time to let it simmer in draft mode before I hit publish. Which is always beneficial as some distance between penning and editing creates a bit of a better end result.  But on those days that I have a small window of time to dedicate to it, the process is sped up.  Those days of shortened focused time, I typically have to go back several times later in the evening to re-edit it after I have already posted it to my vast readership:)  Thinking I am completely done with what I am saying or thinking or that it is in the best form possible never happens.  Words are living things sort of and come to life once penned.  It seems that even written words rear their heads forcing me to change their order after the fact time and time again.  Real life followed suite to that today as well.  This particular issue I had already previously "posted".  I had already tried to deal with it and put to rest the power it seemed to have over me.  Grace was not my first thought.  It came much later after I hit great disappointment, abandonment, betrayal, bewilderment, hurt and pure white hot anger.  I eventually wrestled myself to Graceland once again.  Was this yet again an issue that I needed to give grace?  Was I being overly sensitive?  Was what I felt worthy of being told to the parties involved?  Would that mean I didn't have grace?  Or was I arrogantly trying to assume that the persons involved would only respond poorly if I shared how their actions hurt me?  Was I trying to give grace or just not hurt them by talking about a very difficult subject?  I am familiar with Graceland.  I looked at myself though with tiredness today.  I didn't leave a marriage for years and years because I was afraid of hurting my daughter and my parents. Instead I took on huge amounts of hurt to stay which was detrimental to me ultimately.  Was that fear of harming them or was it arrogance that they wouldn't be able to handle the hurt that decision would cause them?  I couldn't ultimately tell my parents that I had filed for divorce when separated from my husband because I feared how it would wound them.  I was trying to protective them and ultimately didn't know how they would still love me for such a great disappointment.  How did I know what others could or couldn't take? I was not responsible for how others react.  I had to stop this bag holding way of life.  Today I realized I was still doing that.  It wasn't a grace issue today to not let the offending party know how it wounded me.  It was that I thought they couldn't handle the honest interchange.  That I would wound them more than their actions wounded me.  So instead I withheld being honest about how I felt over it which is vital to any healthy relationship.   I held the bag again.  I have withhold information that might make people see me differently or might win me points in their eyes because I have not wanted to perpetuate hurt for my daughter that divorce already brings to children involved.  I have not shared information with my family about certain things about my ex husband because I wanted him to have a clean slate.  I believe everyone needs a fresh start - a chance to finally "get it".  And I have maybe foolishly wanted that for him.  I have never wanted to trash someone to save myself.  It is not who I am.  Divorce is hell at times even if amicable and necessary.  And, for a bag holder such as I, it is brutal.  I cannot shield people from hurt though I have arrogantly tried.   I have never wanted to hurt anyone and, despite my hardest attempts, I no doubt have.  But this bag holding is wrong of me.  I had to ask God to forgive me for thinking I could protect everyone from hurt.  I had to ask Him to help me know where grace stops and truth begins.   And, how both are connected.